Living Conditions
by Vocabelle8aph
Summary: "Don't look so surprised. This happens all the time." Lovina Vargas is in for quite a shock when she meets her new roomies! Will she be able to handle whatever these three unpredictable men throw at her? And will romance blossom amidst the chaos? spamano (SpainxFem!Romano) rated T for the Bad Touch Trio and for Lovi's language!
1. Chapter 1

"Don't look so surprised. This happens all the time."

Her eye twitched. How could she not be surprised? You'd have to be some kind of retarded ape not to be surprised by... that.

"Look, we told you what to expect. You should have prepared yourself for this."

He snorted at her slightly.

"Or maybe you're not cut out for this..."

Okay, hold up a minute. Who says she can't handle this? She was Lovina Chiara Vargas. She was not about to let some half-witted muscle-head tell her what she can and can't do!

"Listen, Bastardo. I told you I'd be fine with whatever you threw at me, as long as I could get out of that stupid, fucking house! Capishe? Mio Dio!"

She yanked her wheeley case violently over the apartment's threshold, tugging her Prada handbag closer to her torso. She was really trying her best to ignore what was going in front of her. As a matter of fact, she planned on ignoring everything and everyone around her for as long as possible. Forever, hopefully.

She stopped, square in the centre of the room, looking at the obvious caution of the German man behind her and the oblivious cries of the three men in front of her.

A ripe, red tomato hit her bang in the middle of her designer blouse. Her white designer blouse.

The three boys stopped dead in their tracks; abruptly bringing an end to their tomato fight.

Lovina's hazel eyes glowed like a devil's as her anger boiled over. She was beyond restraint. Oh, she could handle these three idiotas. And she was going to show that German bastard right now that she would not be taking any prisoners.

"Which one of you stupid sons of bitches hit me!? Eh? _Eh_? Was it blondie, or red eyes or-"

"Lo siento. It was me."

She was interrupted mid rant by the third boy who stepped forward from behind his cowering roommates.

That was the first time Lovina got a proper look at him. Tall, dark, green eyed and mysterious. For the first time in her life she was at a complete loss for words and she didn't quite know why. She paused, full of anticipation and just a little apprehension, suddenly over whelmed by her situation and the mere thought of having to live with three of the most confusing men she'd ever met.

* * *

Felicia, her little sister and her new boyfriend Ludwig Beilshmidt were the reason she decided to evacuate her own home. Their sickly sweet affection seemed contagious and, after long term exposure, was making her barf. If it were up to her, she would have gone someplace quiet where none of the (many) stupid idiots in her life could bother her, a small hotel in Sicily, a flat in Milan- anywhere. But horses weren't wishes, so this begger couldn't ride off into the sunset with just a suitcase and her own shadow for company.

She was seriously low on money, having spent the majority on designer clothes and an extremely beautiful Alpha Romeo 4C. She owned a fucking amazing car and more clothes than she possibly needed. She had no regrets. None at all.

Out of pity, Ludwig set her up with a place to stay. She could live with his brother and his crazy ass roommates who are 'a little hard to handle'. And here she was, looking at her new flatmates as they rubbed tomato off their clothes.

They were pretty much as she expected. Asses that seemed to act as though they'd each downed a bottle of tequila and then managed to get themselves on the most unbelievable sugar high the world has ever seen. What she didn't expect, was for one to have unbelievably beautiful green eyes. Not that she liked him, of course, she wasn't that shallow.

"Bonjour Mademoiselle!" The man with the blond pony tail waltzed over to her and kissed her hand.

"I am Francis Bonnefoy and these are my dear friends; Gilbert Beilschmidt and Antonio Fernandez Carriedo."

"What the fuck do you think you're doing, Casanova!?" She retorted, not about to let any slimy French bastard get his hands on her.

From across the room the Spanish man, Antonio, giggled like a school girl at his friend being bullied by a girl. Lovina didn't find it that amusing.

"You want some of this too, bastard?"

She was interrupted (again!) by the stupid potato bastard with his slick blond hair and fancy posture.

"Well I can see that you're going to get along. Bruder, this is Lovina Vargas, Felicia's schwester."

Before he bolted out the door and headed away from this hell hole of an apartment, he poked his head around and added one final thought.

"Don't do anything... illegal. Okay?"

His albino brother waved him off, grin on face.

"Ja, ja. I know!" He giggled an annoying, ear raping laugh that, of course, irritated Lovina (what didn't?). She could tell they were not going to be getting along.

Then, an awkward silence to end all awkward silences spread over the room. Lovina looked from Gilbert, to Fracis to Antonio and each of them looked around at each other before staring at the Italian woman. Gilbert's unsteady voice broke the staring match.

"So... tomato fight?"


	2. Chapter 2- Bathroom Conversations

**A/N: I got so much awesome feedback from everyone that I decided I should definitely continue this story! Plus Lovi is bad ass and I love Spamano. As usual, I don't own hetalia and this is AU.**

* * *

Lovina locked herself in the bathroom and threw off her blouse in a frustrated rage. No amount of washing would get that huge, ugly red stain out. As she regarded the soiled garment, she felt as though her life had taken a similar turn. It used to be so perfect and beautiful but now... now it was ruined. She almost felt like crying, but there was no way she was going to let herself do something so soppy.

She yanked the switch on the shower, and watched the tiny droplets of warm water sprinkle down before her. Turning on electrical appliances was something she did as a child to calm herself down, and the sentiment still soothed her now. She felt herself relax as she pulled of her jeans and underwear (although, a lot more carefully than before).

She immersed her face first; her chocolate hair darkening and falling flat against her cheeks. She then let the water envelop her body. The comparative quietness of the bathroom gave her some time to think.

Her mind immediately went back to her sorella and Nonno back in Italy. How was Feli going to take care of herself now? Who would brush her hair for her? And would Nonno remember to change his clothes regularly? All these thoughts struck her at the same time before she remembered; Feli's got the potato bastard now. He would comb her hair and put band aids on her cuts and bruises. Feli would be fine- she didn't need her.

She wasn't needed.

The door swung open and a figure stumbled inside, closing the exit behind him. Lovina froze, suddenly aware of her lack of clothes. She instinctively put a hand to her chest before calling out.

"W- what the hell do you think your doing?! The shower's in use, Bastardo!"

"Be nice Lovi~! And I came to keep you company!"

As angry as she was, she couldn't help but feel a little grateful. Although, it was completely inappropriate, someone was thinking of her and didn't want her to be lonely. And, of course, she was a little happy that it was Antonio that thought of her, not one of the others.

Wait- that didn't make her happy! They were all stupid bastards, all of them!

"Hey Lovi?"

The Spaniard's voice was almost a whisper, as though what he was about to say was some terrible secret. A moment past when Antonio remained silent, and each second spent beating around the bush made Lovina more impatient.

"Spit it out! I've been waiting for fucking ages!"

The Spanish man chuckled.

"I was worried you would be upset about me starting a conversation while you were in the shower, but I guess it's okay!"

She peered her head around the shower curtain, hoping to show the idiota how annoyed she really was about his presence in the bathroom, but instead, saw Antonio beaming ear to ear, his deep green eyes so alight with happiness they appeared to be glowing. She blushed a bright red. Although she wasn't as innocent and oblivious as her little sister, she had never been this close to a man before. She'd had a few boyfriends, but nothing serious. She'd never had to live with a boy, let alone three, never mind one being a dark, mysterious Spaniard that made her stutter and blush for no apparent reason.

"Aw, Lovi~! You look so cute, like a little tomato!"

She forced the curtain shut, feeling her blush deepen. At least that idiot couldn't see her now.

"A- anyway, didn't you have something important to say?!"

The Spanish man made a sound in the back of his throat, about to finally address Lovina when everything went black.

The Italian nearly slipped onto her face as a result of the lack of light in the room. She could hear groans of frustration coming from the living room and immediately noted the absence of her brief confident. A sigh escaped her mouth as she prematurely cut off the supply of perfectly warm water.

* * *

By the time Lovina had reached the sofa the three men were conversing around, the power had been out for thirty five minutes. Power outages were just another thing she could at the ever increasing list of things she despised. Not only could she not see a fucking thing, but she couldn't use the telephone or computer. In fact, the lack of electricity had set off a chain reaction of disadvantages; she couldn't charge her cell phone, she couldn't read a book and she couldn't look people in the eye when she insulted them; something she always got the upmost satisfaction from doing.

"Why don't you just light some stupid candles already!" She sighed, rubbing a towel against her dark brown hair. At least she thought it was a towel; in this light it could have been anything.

"Uh, about that... we don't have any."

Lovina face palmed and asked herself why she was even surprised that these idiots didn't own anything remotely helpful for situations like this.

Gilbert walked a few steps closer to the irate brunette.

"You don't happen to have any, do you? I hear girls like candles..." His voice trailed off, as if he could almost sense Lovina's scowl.

"I've only bought one suitcase- did you think I would have stuffed it to the brim with fucking candles!? Anyway, I'm not into all that girly shit."

The Prussian harrumphed, making a beeline for a part of the apartment that didn't have Lovina in it. He sensed that he would be doing that a lot in the days to come.

A soft and extremely weak knock sounded on the white door, interrupting their planning and Gilbert's now short-lived temper tantrum. Francis went to open it, but was followed by all of the apartment's tenants.

The four of them looked around the door frame curiously, much to the dismay of the group's timid visitor; who in return, let out an almost inaudible gasp, but carried on with her introduction none the less.

"Uh- umm, I though you might like some candles?"

* * *

**A/N: Bet you can't guess who the new character is! If you can, let me know in a review and tell me if you think I made the right move putting her in there! She is a Nyotalia character- that's the hint! I'm thinking of starting a fanfic from a different fandom (Probably fairy tail). Let me know your thoughts and please pleas review! *bows* see ya in the next chapter~!**


	3. Chapter 3- A Fist To the Face

**A/N: okay, so the person who guessed that the new character was Fem!Canada first was... *drumroll* RandomWriter57! I now command you all to go read her stories! (Hopefully after you've read this chapter...). Also, well done to Stardust98 and Akay1kay for guessing correctly too! ;) In the future when I'm less busy, I'll write one shots for competition winners~! I'm saying it now: I don't own hetalia or anything at all, and this is AU. **

* * *

Being that the four were all socially inept and/or complete and utter idiots, they had no idea how to proceed with dealing with their neighbour. Francis had quickly explained to Lovina that they tried their best to stay out of the other tenants's ways, because of their tendencies to cause unwanted offence. She was not surprised by this; of course the frog bastard would try to grope anything in a skirt (or maybe just anything), the potato bastard #2 would be a general ass and the tomato bastard was, well, the tomato bastard.

She sighed. As much as she would have liked to take control of the situation herself and show them how easy it was to entrain a guest, she too realised how bad she was at making connections. Her talent to repel people was made obvious in kindergarten; a potential friend asked if she could share her crayons. What she meant to say was 'sure, go ahead!', but what came out was 'do whatever you want, see if I give a rat's ass.' As you could imagine, she totally blew any and every chance of making friends fate slung at her by viciously objecting to her classmates's proposals.

The Italian especially had difficulty when bonding with girls. Occasionally, the boys would let her play football with them, due to her skill at aggressively kicking the black and white ball. They never minded her cussing or her cruel nature, but girls did. They bawled their eyes out and called their mothers, so in the end, she remained with Feli.

"Um, I can leave if you're busy..."

"No!" All four of them shouted at her, each being snapped out of their sentimental flash backs by the Canadian's voice. Talk about issues.

Francis took charge of the endeavour by guiding blonde girl inside. "So, mademoiselle, what is your name?"

She slipped awkwardly onto the white sofa, while the others pretended to look busy making drinks or straightening pictures.

"M- Megruerite Williams. I suppose your'e Mr. Bonnefoy, that's Mr. Carriedo and the tall man over there is Mr. Beilschmidt."

She noted the confusion in their eyes and quickly added "I saw the name plate..."

Gilbert paced towards Meg with a determined stride. The albino bent over to make eye contact with her, which clearly freaked her out; I mean, who wouldn't feel unnerved if an unfamiliar man started a staring contest with you?

"Hmm... I didn't expect this, but you're pretty awesome."

"Excuse me...?" She blushed, much to the confusion of the other flat mates.

"I guess I'll call you 'Birdie'. After all, nothing is more awesome than a little yellow chick- except for me of course! Keseseses-"

"Gil, I think you're freaking out the señorita."

An unconcerned Prussian shrugged and made his way to the kitchen, probably reflecting on his awesomeness. Lovina wasn't sure, but she thought she saw his cheeks turn a light pink.

* * *

Okay, it was about time for her to make a move. She was going to be kind and caring, she was going to show Megruerite her nice side. That meant no swearing, no witty comebacks, and no violence. She was going to be a lovely, sweet girl.

"Ciao. I'm Lovina Vargas. I'm sooo looking forward to being your neighbour~!"

Around her, the three guys (that had only known her for half a day) were making serious 'wtf!?' faces. What? It's not like she couldn't be nice once in a while...

"Uh, it's nice to meet you too... I think?"

"I love your hairdo! It's just too cute~!" She clasped her hands together and put on her biggest cheesy smile. It was going well- a conversation had been initiated. As long as there were no interruptions-

"Oh non non, her beautiful hair is rather adorable, but you are also maginifique, ma cherie!"

With that, Francis pulled one hand up her thigh, and the other toward her breast. The only explanation the confused brunette could come up with, was that he mistook her goody-two-shoes act for the real deal, and 'went in for the kill'. That was it. There was no way she could play nice with that dirty bastard molesting her.

Even through she knew she couldn't hold back anymore, she could already feel their chances of seeming normal slip away. She should've known the wine bastard would have been the first one to fuck things up, although thinking about it, Gilbert's little nickname talk probably didn't help.

"You stupid Bastardo! No one feels me up and lives to tell the fucking tale!"

She felt her fist tighten and knew what was going to happen next; it was an all too familiar scene that always played out when she tried her best to understand other people. She should've known better. This was always going to happen.

A hard smack sung out across the apartment. Lovina froze, watching Francis stumble forward a few paces. He had been hit. Badly. But not by her.

As he sunk to the floor pinching his nose, she saw Antonio behind him, a terrifying look of pure rage clouding over his usual happy expression. He snapped out of it in a second, leaving Lovina to wonder if she'd even really seen it at all.

Antonio grabbed her gently by the shoulders. "Lovi! Are you okay? I never thought Francis would try something like that with you."

He practically spat his friends name out, despite keeping a bright smile while saying it. Strangely, Francis didn't seem fazed by it, as if he was used to this side of his friend.

"Toni, mon Cher? I'm sorry. I swear it will never happen again."

The Spanish man's expression lightened even more.

"Ha ha... I guess I went a little over board there! It should be me apologising!"

Sensing the mood, Meg spoke up, reminding the boys that she was there in the first place.

"We should g- go out! You know...  
to get to know each other better..."

Everyone seemed to like the sound of getting out of their darkened flat, but Lovina had a feeling that trouble would surely ensue.

* * *

**A/N: Where will they go~? Heh heh... *note: the authoress has no idea where they will go, or even what the hell's going to happen next.* despite that, please don't give up on this story! *bows* arigato gozaimasu! P.S. I hope to introduce a few more new characters next chapter!**


	4. Chapter 4- Wine and Whiskey

**A/N: I think it's impossible for me not to apologise every time I update a story. I'm sorry, you lovely people. Enjoy this chapter to the fullest because it may be a while until I update it again. However, I promise I WILL NOT STOP THIS FIC. I'll try to update every chance I get, so you will get your regular dose of Lovi! Also, this gets a bit more serious/dramatic at the end, but it wouldn't be a story if it didn't have any intrigue involved, right? I don't own hetalia and this is AU.**

* * *

'The English Rose' was an old bar that had clearly seen better days. It looked pretty damn run down on the outside, with cracked windows and worn red bricks that had cross-hatched white scratches layered into them. Lovina recalled passing it on the journey to her new abode but didn't expect she would ever be forced to go inside the unspeakable hell hole. Who even dared go for a drink in such a pub? Probably only one handed pirates and other rough-and-ready characters you'd expect to see as villains in story books. She stared at the watering hole's exterior for quite some time before the others caught up with her.

"What are you waiting for Fräulein?" a cocky albino nudged her as he pushed open the bar's door, a timid Meg not far behind him. "It's perfectly safe. Or are you scared a nasty drunk man will hurt you?" He snickered his trade mark laugh and pushed Meg inside with him, leaving poor Lovi no time to think of a come back.

Still, that comment alone was enough to force her to barge straight into 'The English Rose', hands on hips and heels clacking against the tiled floor. Half way through her intimidating pursuit of Gilbert she slowed to a halt. Lovina Vargas looked around her, eyeing up her surroundings suspiciously and somehow feeling like someone had screwed her over. This place was nothing like its exterior. The bar counter was sleek and new and modern Ikea style branches of lights hung above their heads. There was a pool table situated on a raised area of the bar that was also home to several tables that people could gather around to enjoy their drinks at.

Although she was relieved to find a normal bar in her area, not some dump full of crazy people like her room mates, she couldn't help feeling pissed off at said men for letting her believe the place was- well, gross.

She spun on her heels to face the other two offenders, realising that they had only just arrived at the entrance. Francis and Antonio stood there panting and staring at her, not that she was particularly surprised.

You are probably wondering, dear reader, why these two are in such a state. An hour prior to their visit, Lovina decided to change into something more acceptable for going out in than grey jogger bottoms and a loose T-Shirt. She would never normally be responsible for such a serious fashion crime but the black out had forced her to escape the bathroom quickly by wearing whatever was to hand.

She had emerged from her room after a good forty five minutes of fussing, in a black denim mini skirt (designer of course), a pair of dark stilettos and her favourite red sleeveless shirt she had bought with her from the Italian Prada Boutique. She'd always liked that particular outfit; it had, lets say, a certain impact on the men around her. She felt like she needed to make an impact after the already countless times she had been caught off guard by her insufferable room mates.

After that, Antonio and Francis said nothing to her and decided to stay about three metres behind her at all times, watching intently, nit wanting to take their eyes off her. Gilbert hardly noticed her and kept up a constant, steady conversation with Meg until they reached their destination.

* * *

Wanting to waste no more time looking at the two perverted men gazing at her, Lovina helped herself to a glass of wine at the counter.

"Bloody hell, you're not with them are you? Don't tell me frog face has finally picked up a girl!" the bartender snorted as she popped open a bottle of red wine.

"Hell no! I'd rather scrape my eyes out with a rusty spoon than go out with that sleazy bastard!"

The bartender eased up after hearing the Italian's definitive reply. She leaned against the wall by the counter and looked at her new customer.

"Then you must be the new roommate they were so excited about getting." She paused to take her money. "You must be going through hell. Here, this one's on me." the blonde poured out a double measure of whiskey into a glass and pushed it towards Lovina.

"So you know these bastards then? I'm Lovina Vargas. And you are?"

"Alice. Alice Kirkland. My family owns this bar."

Alice Kirkland's glasses glinted in the light as she looked over Lovina's shoulder.

"Looks like you've got company. I'll leave you to it." she grinned again, a sarcastic look of slight amusement on her pale face. She seemed nice enough, but anyone with such a holier-than-though attitude was bound to annoy the hell out of this volatile Italian.

"H- hola Lovi... did I tell you that you look extremely hermoso (beautiful) this evening?"

Lovina grabbed her whiskey, getting the feeling that she was going to be drinking a lot this evening. "No."

She sensed the Spaniard next to her loosen up as he let out a breath next to her. She couldn't be sure, but she felt as though he had suddenly become extremely determined. His emerald eyes glinted as he looked up into her hazel-greens.

He smiled at her, seemingly caught up in some kind of thoughtful moment. He prepared to speak.

The doors of 'The English Rose' creaked upon and a rectangle of light cast shadows onto its checkered tile floor. The figure that emerged was one of a curvy, short woman with cropped, light hair. Expecting her to take a seat with the rest, Lovina turned her attention back to Antonio who was now contrastingly uninterested in her. His neck craned to the side and the slowly closing door allowed the midday sun to light up his cheeks and eyes and cast strangely enthralling angular shadows across his olive dark skin. He was staring at the girl and didn't try to hide it. Lovina swung back her glass and downed the bitter liquid, not minding the burning sensation that spread down her throat. It felt better than the one in her chest.

The woman stopped at Antonio's bar stool and lightly caressed his back, becoming his attention and smiling at him in a way that made Lovina's stomach turn.

"Toni. It's been a long time." the blonde smiled. "Do you mind if we talk?" The brunette complied and made for the back exit that lead onto a veranda, leaving a slightly tipsy and confused Italian to wonder what the _hell_ just happened.

* * *

**A/N: so, what did you think of the drama? Please please let me know so I can improve this story for you guys. Who do you think this mystery woman is? Who is she to Antonio? Is there a spark between Lovi and Toni? So many questions, and they will be answered in due time! Ciao for now, my lovely followers!**


	5. Chapter 5- Road Rage

**A/N: I've finished school for the summer so I'm going to be writing a lot more now. Thanks so much to all the people that have continued to read this story along with my others. It means a great deal to me! T^T In order to thank you, I'm starting up another story soon that I hope you'll look forward to! This chapter is kinda angsty and is all from Lovina's POV. Just a heads up! ;)**

* * *

Lovina was fuming. Although she wasn't completely sure that was how she was feeling; after two cocktails and three times as many shots of vodka it could have been the alcohol doing the swearing. From the corner of her eye she noticed a few cautious glances from Francis who was sitting alongside Gilbert and a rather uncomfortable looking Meg. Even the narcissistic German himself raised a curious eyebrow at her every now and then. After some thought, Lovina decided she didn't much care for the unnecessary attention and turned back to face the bar tender.

"Hit me." she tapped a precisely manicured pink nail against the empty shot glass. She imagined she looked (and no doubt sounded) like a desperate, broke and extremely drunk floozy, wasting what was left of her short, pathetic life making trivial conversation with a bartender and downing countless amounts of exotically named cocktails. She inwardly chuckled at the thought. 'I'm a tequila away from _being_ one'. On the other side of the oak bar, Alice let out a painfully obvious sigh, laced with pity and what seemed to be familiarity. The Italian couldn't help but wonder how many times she'd dealt with troubled alcoholics. Not that she herself was one, of course.

"I would, but I think you're having enough trouble staying upright as is-" a thump shocked the blonde to silence, as Lovina raised her tightened fist from the damp, marked counter. She was angry now, she was sure of it. "Shut it, _cagna_. I'm fine- I don't need you or anyone else to tell me otherwise." Daggers were glared between the two and the brunette could tell their personalities clashed in several aspects. Still, something told her that she could trust the sarcastic British bar maid. Although that didn't stop her from verbally lashing out at the person that stood between her and her liquor.

A soft hand lightly gripped her shoulder before she could further harass Alice. "Lovina, mon amis, I think it's time we went home, no?" Francis cooed, attempting to somehow calm her down and sober her up at the same time. The blue eyed blonde haired Frenchman was flirtatious to say the least, but she admired his determination to keep his friends safe and away from trouble. She wondered if that meant she was his friend now too. It was hard to say if his kind words towards her were for her own sake, or the sake of Alice, who seemed more than a little overwhelmed with the amount of customers that had flooded in during the usual Saturday night rushes. Begrudgingly, she accepted his offer but batted away the slender hand he offered her to get up, even though stumbling was somewhat inevitable. She wasn't exactly a first time bar hopper; back in Italy she and her sister, along with some rare companions that had become slightly accustomed to Lovina's ferocious disposition, had taken it upon themselves to go out and enjoy the luxuriously diverse and exquisite nightlife of Rome. There was something to be said for losing your inhibitions and forgetting who you were for a night. Sitting on a bar stool in Piazza Navona, Lovina could be anyone. This feeling was considerably harder to achieve, surrounded by your new, somewhat watchful roommates.

The stumbling was a bigger problem than expected, as well as her usually focused mind which was currently having to work overtime on the challenge of paying for her drinks. A few coins escaped her fumbling hands and made their way onto the floor with a resounding chime. At this, Francis reared back to the bar and seemed to ask Alice to put her bill on Gilbert's tab, or so she thought. She sincerely hoped that was the case, as she could almost imagine the Prussian's face turn even paler in shock at the surely enormous bill she had worked up over the hours. Heading to the doors, she remembered the small detail of the evening she had been so eager to forget; the mystery girl and Antonio's sudden disappearance. "Frog bastard... who was that girl? The one with the short hair and way too much make up." Next to her, the young man tensed a little and did not respond. She may have been wasted, but she wasn't stupid. She needed an answer. "Don't tell me you've forgotten, stronzo. She left with your best friend, for god's sake!"

"Lovina, I wish I could say but I can't. That's Antonio's secret to reveal. His weakness, not mine." She paled and felt the anger boil up inside of her. Even now, she wasn't part of anything; she wasn't close enough to know them. To know their secrets. But what did she expect? She could never make friends all her life, why would it be any different now? She made a move to speed up and arrive home before her new cohabitants but Francis's hand quickly grabbed her wrist. He pulled her closer and opened his mouth to speak, eyes filled with caution. "Don't go after Antonio. I'm saying this for your sake. By all means be friends with him, you don't have to stay away." The confusion in her eyes must have been apparent as he sighed and began again with quieter tone. "Just don't expect miracles, okay? He's not the fairytale price you think he is."

She wished she could be angry, she wished she could completely disregard all of his warnings but no matter how hard she tried to stop it, she couldn't help remembering the look on Antonio's well-sculpted face when he struck one of his closest friends. She knew all along that it frightened her, she just hadn't allowed herself a moment of weakness to realise it until now. Suddenly feeling her legs shake beneath her she darted away from the Frenchman's grip and into the damp, cold evening.

* * *

Taxis seemed to be repelled by the staggering Italian woman, or so she thought as she hollered for the eighth cab that evening. Despite having walked to the pub earlier, her intoxication coupled with her bad sense of direction obscured her memory and made the side streets and alleyways appear long and twisted with no apparent end in sight. She was feeling a little nauseated to say the least, and the sudden monstrous appearance of the street wasn't helping. Amidst the intense confusion and frustration she was currently feeling, it was pleasant to spend a few hours away from Gilbert's insufferable chuckle and Francis's smooth talking tendencies. That being said, she didn't mind the tomato bastard's heart-warming grin and his thick Spanish accent that rolled off his tongue- no. How could she let herself feel that way about possibly sadistic idiot she'd only known for half a day?! Not to mention he seemed pretty satisfied spending his evening with a mild mannered, girly blonde. The thought of said mysterious woman rekindled the anger she had been oblivious to harbouring moments ago. Lovina reached out and swung her fist, mock punching the air so violently that she swerved onto the road. Without a second to realise what happened to her, the confused Italian was face to face with a blue Nissan. Its breaks screeched out as it stopped within an inch of her.

Her head was more than a little fuzzy now, but she could see the accusative glances coming her way from where she stood in the centre of the road. Naturally, she flipped them off, keeping in perfect character. A tall and straight faced young man emerged from the rather modern looking car, silently observing the fuming Lovina before approaching her. "... You should be more careful on a busy road."

What. That was all he had to say? He'd nearly completely crushed her with his fancy eco-car and all he could do was insult her! That was the last straw. She was going to give him a piece of her mind even if her head was spinning ferociously and the ringing in her ears was becoming unbearable. This time, the full wrath of Lovina Vargas was inevitable.


	6. Chapter 6- Continental Breakfat

**A/N: So I'm actually updating! Yay! Savour this moment. Who knows when I'll remember to update next?! And I'm also going to London's Hyper Japan Convention next week so naturally I won't be writing... Anyway, I don't own squat, and this is AU.**

* * *

The last thing she remembered was being pissed off at someone, or everyone. Most likely the latter, as she had managed to get herself drunk off her skull, and she must have had a good reason. She knew she had been sitting at the bar... and then she left. Lovina slapped her cheek a little, trying to swat away the hangover's presence and release the fuzzy memories from the night before. Yes... there was a car. A car and a man.

Sitting up, she noticed that she had been sleeping in a soft bed, its light linen sheets unfamiliar to the tentative touch of her clammy palms. She was still wearing the outfit from last night, albeit the shirt was more crumpled and creased from her no doubt delirious, deep sleep. If her clothes were this dishevelled, she could only imagine the state her face was in. There was probably a great deal of crying and extreme violence that would have taken its toll on her previously immaculate makeup.

There was a large, open window to her left, and the white cotton curtain that covered it was illuminated by morning light and flapped gently in its breeze. It was probably a beautiful morning. Unfortunately, to Lovina, the lovely glow of the sun appeared deadly and caused her eyes to narrow into a squint. She 'tsk'd at the conventionally beautiful morning and pulled her legs up into a cross-legged position. Her bed really was comfy; she remembered how thin and ropey the mattress at her new apartment was when she first felt it. This morning it felt entirely different. In fact, it was like she was in someone else's house entirely!

_Wait a minute... _she thought, finally catching on. "This IS someone else's house!"

Lovina threw off the duvet and marched across the cold, wooden floor, kicking the door open viciously. At first, the huge, open house appeared as confusing as it was sophisticated in design. There were so many wall-sized windows that green grass was visible at every turn. And the entire interior was white, save for a few doors and tables that were made of smooth, flawless mahogany. Whoever this house belonged to must have been loaded.

She caught the scent of toasting bread as she stepped through the seventh door. Next to her, on the other side of the left doorway, was a kitchen. She gulped. Whoever was behind that door was the mystery millionaire who decided to take in a drunk, wild Italian girl and make her breakfast. There was no doubt in her mind; they must be completely insane. She didn't even have her purse, rendering that expensive pepper spray obsolete in this moment of reckoning. But she couldn't let that stop her. She'd been through some real shit those past few weeks; leaving her family, living with three jerks and losing all memory of the previous night. This was surly nothing to her! Surely...

The door opened quietly, any creaking was cancelled out by the loud noise of frying eggs and boiling water. Standing at the counter, flipping an egg with a spatula stood a tall blonde man. His hair was gelled up into a striking spike, completely revealing his forehead. He wore a plain white T-Shirt that matched the decor of his modern , stylish house. His extremely muscular, yet pale arms could be seen as he held up the frying pan. Lovina raised an eyebrow as she took him in. He was certainly more muscular than Antonio. He didn't seem to share the Spaniard's cheery disposition either; he focused sternly on his cooking as if he were a tormented artist making a masterpiece. To sum up, this stranger seemed pretty harmless. Although he already seemed to have more than a few quirks...

The robust man looked up from his frying pan at his guest. He didn't seem at all surprised. Clearly Lovina was the only one with jumbled up memories, and she was forced to rely on this perfect stranger to help fill the gaps. Great.

"You're up already?" He questioned. "After all we did last night, I thought you would've slept for at least another hour."

Those words had been the last thing she wanted to hear on this already confusing, shameful morning. "Oh, _fuck_ no... no. We didn't did we?" Lovina felt like she was just about ready to fall into a hole in the ground. In fact, it would have made the day a little more pleasant.

"... Don't flatter yourself." He said, not raising his eyes from the toast he was preparing. Lovina almost couldn't believe what she heard. The typically spiteful statement had been delivered in such a calm voice by such a mellow individual that she had no response. She was bad enough with people as it was, she didn't need this freak confusing her even more.

After a few minutes of silence that made her look all the more foolish, Lovina cleared her throat and attempted to readopt her usual, icy persona. Her voice was a little gruffer than usual, and the pain in her head made it near impossible to concentrate and take in the situation, but she had to resist the urge to flop down on the armchair that sat temptingly across the room. "Look, I'm angry and tired and I have the biggest fucking hangover known to man. Can you please just tell me what happened last night?" Lovina scoffed internally. That was probably the first time she'd said 'please' since she arrived in that god forsaken town.

"I'll tell you all I know. But you might not like it." The man gestured for them to sit down at his wooden dining table. He served a helping of egg onto Lovina's plate before tending to his own. "My name is Tim. We're at my place right now." Lovina nodded slowly, mentally taking note of the name, wondering if it was familiar. She picked up the unscathed knife and fork and began shovelling the food into her mouth with no apprehension. It felt like she hadn't ate for weeks. Tim just sat there silently, assessing her, watching her every move. Unsure how to respond to such behaviour, Lovina tried her best to ignore him and focus on the elaborate breakfast set out before her. As well as the eggs there was a kind of French toast, dusted in an unfamiliar brown powder. There were pastries too, and more than enough for the two of them.

When he seemed satisfied that she had eaten enough, he began tucking in himself, albeit slowly. "I was on my way to work last night when some idiot thought it would be okay to wander into the middle of the road" He raised one eyebrow, naming her as said idiot. Still, there was no raised voice, no argumentative tone to speak of. Just that absent, monotone voice. Lovina sighed, feeling her patience dissipate.

"Go on..." she said sarcastically, a slight venomous tone apparent in her voice.

"Then..." He paused to swallow a bite of croissant. "Then, you punched me." Lovina chocked and spat out a little of her orange juice like they did in cartoons. Tim seemed to find it amusing and bent his fixed scowl into a cocky side-smile. It wasn't all that surprising that she hit someone; it was pretty much a given that a drunk Lovina is an angry Lovina. She just didn't expect that the poor bastard who had the misfortune of becoming her punching bag would take her in. Make her breakfast, even. This guy must be a fucking saint. Tim opened his mouth to continue. Unfortunately for Lovina, there was more to the story.

"You collapsed after that so I took you back to my place. That was before I realised you were such high maintenance..." She cringed at the direction the story seemed to be going in. She'd already hit him and imposed on his generosity, what else could she possibly do? "You woke up straight away. There were some really crazy demands"

"Like what?" she quikcly interjected. Somehow the curiosity got the better of her.

"Hmm... well first you wanted me to undress you. Then I believe you wanted me to kiss your thigh-"

"Stop! Stop! God, I don't wanna know- Wait, you didn't do any of those things did you?" She tensed, again remembering to keep her wits about her. She'd almost forgot she knew next to nothing about this man, least of all his motives.

"Again, don't flatter yourself." He replied, all too quickly. "Oh, and you kept calling me Antonio." Lovina's mouth dropped open even wider (if that was at all possible) whereas Tim on the other hand started looking a little proud of himself.

"I tried to call this guy on your phone but unfortunately for me, the girl who can't even cross the road on her own somehow manages to remember to password protect her cell." He looked down and sighed. It was pretty clear from the way he acted and spoke to her that he knew her all too well. He seemed accustomed to her behaviour after knowing her for the best part of six hours. It was an odd feeling, having someone completely aware of your personality and tastes while you don't know the first thing about them.

"That's pretty much all you need to know. After that we spent the next few hours playing videogames and wrecking my lounge." He stood up to clean the dishes. There were still plates of continental pastries and dishes untouched. "And I just wanted to sleep..."

Tim turned away from her and started on the many dirty dishes that needed washing. Lovina used the opportunity to do something decent for once. She unlocked her iPhone and called Antonio's number that had been entered the previous day by Francis. The call went to voicemail, so she decided to leave a message after the beep, as Antonio's cheerful voice instructed her to do.

"Hey Tomato bastard. Just thought I'd say I'm fine. I stayed at some guy's house. He's a good guy; he tried to call you last night but my phone was locked. He's really helped me a lot. So yeah, don't worry, I'm not in danger or anything. Ciao."

* * *

**A/N: Sorry! That was so freaking long! But oh my god. I ship them. I ship Netherlands x Romano... oh dear. And the message is relevant...**


	7. Chapter 7- Reflection & Revelation

**A/N: I know. I didn't update quickly. I got distracted... so yeah, sorry 'bout that. I've just been focusing more on my own manga and novel projects recently, but I thought it was time to update. Sorry I suck at writing. Sorry it's short, but we finally get Toni's P.O.V! Just a heads up, this is a very serious chapter. Let me know if the seriousness isn't working for you! I don't own hetalia...**

* * *

Antonio had noticed, much to his dismay, that dark grey clouds had gathered, covering the previously clear morning sky. There was a dewy scent in the air and a kind of sinister quietness that always proceeded a storm, making him feel uneasy. He despised the rain; that wet precipitate that forced its way down to earth and clung to your clothes.

When he was a boy he used to play at the Port of Valencia with the neighbour kids every summer morning. Sometimes they would even stay out until late afternoon to watch the streamliner's arrive with their huge barnacled hulls. For three little boys with nothing to do and a weekend to waste, those ships were infinitely exciting, each one bringing some other alien commodity to land. But in late summer, the rains would fall; relentless Mediterranean storms that sprayed hot, damp water as far as the eye could see. There was no escape from it and no way of stopping it. Oh, how he _wished_ he could stop it... It clouded the port and made it impossible to see the ships, and his mother had forbidden him from going to the sea in fear that a small child like him may fall off the dock.

Since then, no- even before, Antonio had always felt pensive and useless in the rain, stuck inside with no hope of leaving. Even if he did escape into the watery outdoor haze, nothing would be quite the same as it usually was: streets and buildings and plants would be covered in a film of cold, reflective dew. It seemed like a dream world, and not the warm, clear one he loved.

Of course, these were all childish thoughts that didn't mean as much to him now as they did when he was young and ignorant, but they were still present. It meant he hadn't grown up. And he probably never would. He thought of the previous evening and dropped his head against the apartment window. He just couldn't do it, could he? He couldn't grow up. Maybe that was why he didn't have a job, why he lived with his two best friends from high school and why he couldn't be with the same girl for more than a week.

"Toni! I'm making coffee. You want some?" Gilbert asked. Antonio turned around to see his friend pour two cups of their cheap instant coffee into their respective mugs. Gilbert drizzled a dash of an unlabelled spirit into his cup. His black AA wristband stood out in comparison to his shockingly white skin, the worn inscription that once said 'sober for two years' was beginning to wear off. He was used to seeing his friend relapse and the fact that he was currently one week into his biggest one yet almost didn't bother him anymore. In fact, he and Francis often found themselves by his side at the bar.

"Where's Francis... And Lovina?"He asked, reaching for his own, non-alcoholic beverage.

"Franny went back to some girl's place. You should've seen the look on Alice's face! You'd think she'd be used to it by now." He shrugged. "And Lovina didn't come home last night either. Thank god." He quickly added, rolling his eyes. It was no mystery how Gilbert and their new roommate got on. His friend bent down and leaned against the table of their breakfast bar, his pale arms fully visible through his white vest. "She works fast." He snickered.

"Or maybe she just likes to sleep around" Antonio lied. His voice came out sounding more contemptuous than he intended.

"Ha! Pretty big talk for a guy who dropped everything to go flirt with his hot ex!" His friend jested. He was wondering how long Gilbert would be able to resist the urge to gossip about his personal life. Even though the topic was inevitable, he was still hoping he wouldn't have to face up to reality and retell the experience. That's what made it real; if he didn't have to remember, if he could keep it a distant, drunk memory, he could tell himself it was just a dream.

"You mean Emma..." He knew exactly what he meant.

"Who else? For a while there I thought you had a thing for that Italian She-Devil. I mean, she seems like a half-way decent human being. Sort of." He took a sip of his coffee-with-a-kick. "You were even sweet-talking her."

Antonio slumped in his seat at the breakfast bar, getting lost in the part of his brain that was somehow always thinking about Lovina Vargas. She was familiar but so, so different. He knew women, he knew what they were thinking and he knew what they wanted. He could use them so easily; his personality was tailored for just that. And lord knows, he had the looks. But despite all that, it didn't seem to render Lovina weak at the knees and submissive. In fact, she shouted at him and cussed him out. No one had ever done that before , and somehow he felt comfortable around her. It defied all logic, but after knowing her for the better part of ten minutes her felt like he had so much to say to her.

But how could he say anything to her the way he was now? Nothing was that easy. There was no way he could let her see the real him. No one could see the real him. He had promised that much. Anyway, he'd made so many commitments, he may as well try and keep at least one of them.

He stood up and went to tip the remainder of his coffee down the sink. "Sorry Gilbo. Nothing happened, so there's nothing to say." The first few drops of rain began to drip from the storm clouds and Antonio left the kitchen to seek refuge in his bedroom, where he could close the curtains and light up the darkened space with his phone. There was now a slight chill in the air that had become more noticeable after the deceptive blue sky had been shrouded in the pale grey nothingness that had covered it. The soft cotton of his navy trousers barricaded his lower body from the cold, but his Real Madrid T-Shirt had no such benefit. He shivered and hugged his arms.

A rectangle of yellow light shone through his trouser pocket and he noticed a weak rumbling. He had one new message on answer phone. He stopped in his tracks and raised the battered device to his ear, expecting to hear a drunk Francis on the other end asking to be picked up from a non descript location, as usual. To his surprise it was not:

_'Hey... bastard. Just... I...at some guy's house. He's a...he tried to... last night... locked...help...me...So..don't... I'm...in danger... C-.'_

He tensed. Could he be hearing this right? For a moment he was lost, horrified, the prospect of real danger preventing him from reacting for a few minutes. The recording was broken up and distorted but what he could make out, he didn't like. Gilbert stepped up to him and gave him a quizzical look, waving a hand in front of his face. Antonio simply passed his friend the phone and ran to his room, not wanting to waste any time on explaining something to Gilbert, a task that had often took a lot longer than necessary. As he manically laced up his shoes he could hear his friend gasp in surprise at the recording. The thought of the easy-going man experiencing real terror only made his palms more moist.

"Wait, don't tell me you're going to find her!? Toni, that's crazy-" Gilbert protested. He wasn't of a mood to humour his friend in a discussion. There was too much panic in the air and a good deal of adrenaline that prevented him from standing still, so instead he rushed to the door.

"It's fine, Gil. I've got some favours I need to call in anyway- don't wait up!" He slammed the door behind him, a part of him wondering what the hell he thought he was doing but the majority of his brain was too preoccupied to do anything about it. All he could be sure of, was _someone_ was going to pay.


End file.
